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THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. |
175 |
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being a primitive sort of door, with a latch, that any one could lift if he chose—and a good many people did choose, I can tell you ; for all kinds of neighbours liked to have a cheerful word or two with the Carrier, though he was no great talker himself. Being opened, it gave admission to a little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, who seemed to have made himself a great-coat from the sack-cloth covering of some old box; for when he turned to shut the door, and keep the weather out, he disclosed upon the back of that garment, the inscription G & T in large black capitals. Also the word GLASS in bold characters.
" Good evening John ! " said the little man. " Good evening Mum. Good evening Tilly. Good evening Unbeknown ! How's Baby Mum ? Boxer's pretty well I hope ?"
" All thriving, Caleb," replied Dot. "I am sure you need only look at the dear child, for one, to know that."
"And I'm sure I need only look at you for another," said Caleb.
He didn't look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful eye which seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time and place, no matter what he said; a description which will equally apply to his voice.
" Or at John for another," said Caleb. " Or at Tilly, as far as that goes. Or certainly at Boxer."
" Busy just now, Caleb ?" asked the Carrier.
" Why, pretty well, John," he returned, with the distraught air of a man who was casting about for the Philosopher's stone, at least. " Pretty much so. There's rather a run on Noah's Arks at present. I could have wished to improve upon the Family, but I don't see how it's to be done at the price. It would be a satisfaction to one's mind, to make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was Wives. Flies an't on that scale neither, as compared with elephants you know ! Ah ! well! Have you got anything in the parcel line for me, John ?"
The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken off; and brought out, carefully preserved in moss and paper, a tiny flower-pot.
" There it is ! " he said, adjusting it with great care. " Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of buds !"
Caleb's dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him.
" Dear, Caleb," said the Carrier. " Very dear at this season."
" Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost," returned the little man. " Anything else, John ?"
" A small box," replied the Carrier. " Here you are ! "
" ' For Caleb Plummer,'" said the little man, spelling out the |
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